Barely Breathing Anymore
by The-Suburban-Guy
Summary: Sam and Dean run away after John's latest act goes too far. The two teens escape to Orlando as they learn to deal with their new lives.
1. Fluticasone

**Chapter 1: Fluticasone**

Sam's lungs were on fire. Every breath came out ragged and desperate as he tried to keep up with his father as they chased after the wendigo. He could feel his body struggling for oxygen, his chest heaving but not seeming to bring in enough air. He had to stop, but if he did he knew Dad would be sure to make an example of this as another instance of him being 'lazy' or 'not committed' to the family. So he pressed on, trying to ignore his body screaming at him to stop. He could make out Dad and Dean almost a half-mile ahead, charging through the undergrowth. The last thing he saw was Dean turning around to see where he was when he collapsed.

**SPN**

Sam woke up in an emergency room. That wasn't good. Hospitals were only for the worst injuries. Dad wasn't going to be happy about having to shell out for this…

"Sammy! Thank God!" Dean was by his side in an instant, not hugging him-_because that's a total chick flick moment_-but clearly hovering over his little brother to see if he was alright.

"What happened? Why am I in the hospital?" Sam tried to sit up, only to feel a jab in his side. He winced. It was like having a shin-splint in his chest.

"The doctor said you had an asthma attack." Dean cleared his throat and rubbed his shoulder, "And a pretty bad one, at that."

"Asthma?"

"Yeah, your lungs are all sorts of fucked up. Apparently when you're around certain stuff it can cause your lungs to swell up and you have one of those attacks." Dean paused, looking down, "You almost died." Much quieter he continued, "_Would've if I hadn't hauled your ass here_."

"What about Dad?" Sam looked nervously at the door.

"He finished up the hunt and took the Impala back to the motel. It's just me right now." Dean looked away, trying to hide something, but Sam caught a glimpse of something in his brother's look.

After a visit with the asthma specialist and an explanation of Sam's new inhaler he was discharged into Dean's care-who'd lied and used the fake ID to claim he was over eighteen. Outside Dean rubbed his shoulder again and squinted in the bright late afternoon light, "So, you're allergic to pollen, dander, and mold. That pretty much eliminates everywhere we end up on hunts… Guess you're gonna be stuck on research for a while." Dean was trying to make light of the situation before it inevitably came crashing down with their father's reaction.

Sam sighed, looking up at his brother, "Dean, thank you." He weakly smiled as he fiddled with the small piece of red plastic in his palm, imagining how his father was going to take the news.

**SPN**

The wendigo had been a bitch to take care of solo. John managed though, _no help from either one of the bastards I call sons_… He'd gotten a few pretty nasty swipes from the beast before he burned it to ash, and stitching his own back courtesy of the cheap motel's bathroom mirror was another thing to sour his already lousy mood. He cracked open his sixth beer and flipped stations on the television. Dean would be back soon, toting along Sam-_I've gotta get that kid running more, fucking pansy nearly passed out after only three miles._

Dean opened the door with the key he'd gotten from reception and let him and Sammy in. Dad was facing the TV, _please, if there is a God, let him just be asleep…_ "You took long enough. How much did we waste because your brother can't run a few goddamn miles?"

Dean's face hardened as he sat down on his bed, "It wasn't that much, and Sam didn't pass out because he's out of shape. He had an asthma attack. According to the doctor he could've died."

"Asthma? You mean that thing they made up to explain why tubby kids can't play sports or eat sugar?"

Dean gritted his teeth, "No, that's type 2 diabetes-which is also real…"

John stood up to face the boys. Dean was unlacing his boots, averting his gaze from his father-the smell of alcohol still wafting toward him, while Sam was trying to make his awkward frame as small as possible so he might avoid a lecture. "Like hell it is. Doctors always make up new bullshit to sell medicine to idiots who can't believe that they're just out of shape." He jabbed a finger toward Sam. "No son of mine is taking some bullshit meds. What'd they give you? I'm getting rid of it, and then we're going for a run…" His voice slurred as he stuck his hand out.

Sam knew better than to mess with their father when he was like this, normally Dad was at least able to be reasoned with, but when he was drunk it was his way or the highway. Sam had no desire to be locked in the bathroom as punishment as he was lectured about the 'value of family' again. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the small plastic device. But before he could hand it to John, Dean stood between them. "Dad, he needs it to live. Sammy has a problem with his lungs, if he has another attack and we aren't near a hospital this is the only thing that keeps him from dying. It's not bull-"

John punched Dean in the shoulder, apparently aggravating an existing wound given Dean's immediate pained reaction, before shoving him aside. "Give me the fucking meds!"

Sam, terrified at his father's easy dismissal of Dean handed him the inhaler. "The fuck is this? I said give me your meds!" He picked up Sam and lifted him off the floor, shaking him. "Where are they?!"

"That was the meds. I swear I don't have anything else." Sam said, panicking at the new degree of physical violence his father was displaying toward him.

John set him down and glared, before he pulled on his belt buckle. "Boy, I don't want to do this, but since you're-" he hiccupped, swallowing the vomit that tried to escape, "-lying to me, I'm gonna have to do this…" As he approached Sam tried to shrink into the corner behind the bed, he closed his eyes and prayed the pain would be quick before he heard a shattering sound and opened his eyes to see Dean panting above their unconscious father, holding the large glass lamp from the nightstand.

"Dean?!" Sam was flabbergasted. _Dad was never usually this violent and Dean had probably panicked…_

"We're leaving. Get your stuff." Dean kicked his father's body as he lay bleeding on the mustard motel carpeting.

"You just knocked out Dad!"

"Nobody messes with you Sammy. **Nobody**." Dean's face was dark as he shoved his clothes into a duffel and emptied out all the cash from his father's wallet.

Ten minutes later the two teens were halfway across the miniscule excuse-for-a-town when Dean stopped at a used car lot. _It's closed for the day and there aren't any security cameras… _Dean checked for nosy locals before jimmying the lock on an '87 Escort. He quickly checked the console before pulling out a spare key. He smirked, "These guys never learn…" Sam threw his stuff in the trunk and buckled before Dean pulled out and sped away, hoping to put as much distance as they could between them and their father before he awoke.

It was a three hour drive to the nearest airport. When they arrived Dean ditched the car and the two entered. There was a ticket counter near the entrance. _Perfect._ Dean led the way and cleared his throat, alerting the blonde ticket agent to his presence. "Hello, my brother and I are looking for the cheapest tickets you have leaving for Orlando. Our parents have to finish some stuff up here, but there's a family emergency and we need to get there ASAP." Dean had asked Sam where he wanted to go, and Orlando was his first thought. Not just because of Disney, but because it was the exact opposite of the gray and brown bumfuck town where they were now.

"Alright, let's see…" She typed on her terminal, "Looks like we have two flights leaving tonight, with the less expensive option being a flight from Continental with a single layover in Houston."

"Perfect. We'll take two one-way tickets."

**SPN**

After Dean's payment and passing through airport security Sam and Dean sat in Terminal 17 waiting for the flight. They had a little over an hour, and Dean was freaking out. Dean _hated _flying. _Humans were meant to stay on the ground, not thousands of feet in the air in a pressurized cabin that could suddenly explode and hurdle to earth at any second!_ But flying was the only logical way to put a lot of distance between them and Dad. Trains didn't get them far enough fast enough, and driving would just lead a trail of cars for him to follow before he found them.

When they were called for boarding Dean forced himself to climb the ramp into the plane. Sammy didn't mind flying, it seemed, and was blissfully ignorant of his brother's internal freak out. The moment Dean got on he immediately called for a stewardess, "I need the strongest thing you have."

She raised an eyebrow, "You're a little young sweetheart…"

Dean pulled out his fake passport, "I'm twenty two in a few weeks. But I look younger than I am." He couldn't even put on the charm; he was too ready to shit himself in terror. That caught Sam's attention, Dean was always suave.

Dean quickly downed the miniscule bottle of vodka as he closed his eyes and started muttering. It took Sam a moment, but he recognized it as something Latin-and given the frequency of 'Cristo'-it was likely a prayer. _Okay, something was definitely off, _"Dean, are you praying?" Sam whispered, glancing at the last wave of passengers making the way to their seats.

Dean opened his eyes for a brief moment before he swallowed, _fuck it, _"Yeah, we're about to go a couple thousand feet into the air with only a few inches of shitty aluminum keeping us from being sucked into oblivion. If there is a God I want to be on his good side when I die." Dean scowled, upset at revealing his fear, but simultaneously terrified as the stewardess locked the entry door and began the safety demonstration.

"Dean, if you don't like flying you could've told me. We could've kept driving or something…" Sam glanced at his brother, trying to show his concern.

"Sammy I have one job, it's to keep you safe. If I can't manage a plane flight I think I've failed pretty miserably at that."

With that the plane began taxiing the runway and Dean clutched the armrest tightly. Sam frowned as he placed his hand on his brother's forearm, "You don't have to be the only one doing the protecting Dean."

Dean glanced over, eyes wide as the plane took off.

The layover had Dean literally kissing the ground as he ran off the plane, then cursing as he had to again board a second flight only a few minutes later. The final arrival in Orlando left Sam and Dean standing in front of the large glass and concrete structure. "Well, now what?" Sam said, turning to Dean.

"Now we find a motel, get some sleep, and figure out the rest in the morning."


	2. Salmeterol

**Chapter 2: Salmeterol**

_Well, Dean wasn't wrong._ The two had managed to get a cab to a cheap motel and had settled in for the night. Dean was strictly using cash because Dad-once he sobered up-would be smart enough to try and trace any of their credit cards. After a restless night of Dean constantly checking on Sam, then checking the door, then Sam again, morning finally came. Sam was greeted to Dean hunched over the small table in their room with blank social security cards and a handful of other documents.

Dean grinned, his puffy eyes belying his late-night activities,"Morning sunshine. What do you want your new name to be?"

"My new name?" Sam groggily rubbed his eyes, Dean was wearing a black AC-DC shirt and jeans-he'd been up for a while by the looks of it.

"Well, we need a cover if we're going to stay anywhere. Not only for dad, but any cops who might still be looking for us after some of the less desirable stuff we've done." Dean continued fiddling with an x-acto knife as he cut a photo of himself and delicately applied it to a Florida driver's license.

"What did you pick?" Sam sat down next to Dean, careful not to disrupt anything.

"Nothing yet, I've been busy scrounging up the templates and copying them. It's a lot harder without a computer…" Dean carefully adhered his picture before he flattened it, removing any air bubbles.

"I dunno, I still like 'Sam' but that would be a dead giveaway." Sam looked up at the popcorn ceiling, hoping for some sort of inspiration, "What about 'Jared'?" Sam fiddled with his sleeve as he looked at the various documents on the table.

"Alright, Jared is fine. And I'm choosing an easy last name. Not that Winchester is hard, but something shorter would be nice…" He thought a moment, "Collins? It's short, plus I'd get to be at the front of the alphabet for once."

"Jared Collins." Sam thought a moment about his new moniker, "Works for me. What about you?"

"I dunno, 'Mark'? Still short, and easy enough to spell." Dean shrugged, most of the time their assumed identities weren't backed up with anything, having to go through the effort to make a convincing paper-trail for their fake selves was new.

By the afternoon Dean had fabricated false social security cards (which he'd gone through the trouble of registering via a shady former connection of his father's-one who hated John enough that even if he did call, the guy would only curse him out), a driver's license (age 21 for Dean), and a handful of other documents-including a GED.

"Wait, you're not going to school? You're only a junior." Sam looked at the completed pile and picked up the GED.

"Sammy, if we're going to live on our own down here we need some way to make money. Both of us working part-time after school isn't enough. I need a real job. You still go to school. You can get a job later, but for now focus on school. I'll take care of the money problem." Dean was adamant.

"Okay. But you better get a _real_ GED. I don't want people to think you're stupid." Sam smiled, "You're way too awesome for that."

Dean rolled his eyes as he glanced at the clock. It was time to get lunch, then register Sammy for school.

**SPN**

Boone High was massive. The building was easily the largest school that Sam or Dean had ever seen. Normally the schools they attended were in small towns that had seen much better days. Boone was an old building, but it had just been renovated and seemed to be a perfect fit for Sammy. After paying the taxi Sam and Dean got out and walked into the main office. A red-haired woman with dark makeup sat behind the desk. Her nametag said 'Penelope'.

"Hello, _Penelope_. I'm here to register my brother for school." Dean smiled, turning on his charm.

"Hello young man. I'm sorry, but we can only accept registrations from the parent or legal guardian of a student. It is quite enterprising that you have brought him in, but I'll need one of your parents in order to release the appropriate entry paperwork." She smiled politely, happy to see siblings look out for each other, but a stickler for protocol.

"I actually am my brother's legal guardian, after our parent's death I took over as his guardian." Dean explained, which was only a half-lie, Dean had basically raised Sam after their mother's death and their father's obsession for hunting took up nearly all the time he should've spent parenting.

"My apologies, Mr…" She paused.

"Collins. But you can call me Mark." Dean nodded.

"Well, _Mark._" She smiled, "Let me just get some paperwork and I'll need some ID to copy for the school records."

"Of course." Dean pulled out a manila folder from his bag. "I've got everything you need right here…"

As Dean filled out the paperwork Sam had an entrance interview with the principal. Dr. Kline was a modestly portly man in his later 40s by Sam's estimation. He seemed friendly enough, given that he'd said that he liked to meet the new students when he was able-though given the nearly 3,000 in the school he was only able to know a handful. "So Jared, Orlando is a big change from Kansas. Do you think you'll be able to handle the sunny weather year round?"

"It should be a nice change. I don't care much for winter." Sam smiled politely, trying to act as normal as possible.

"Neither do I. That's why I moved down here!" He laughed, "So, we'll have you take a quick placement test this afternoon and then you'll discuss what classes you want to take with Ms. Jenkins-one of our guidance staff. If you do well you could even try out one of our specialized programs in law, finance, or criminal justice-we have quite a few teachers to help students get a leg-up in these areas for colleges!"

"Law would be neat. I already know a good bit of Latin…"

"Well that should come in handy if you decide to go that way. Let's get you something to eat and then you'll take the test. Your brother can come along too, so long as he doesn't mind waiting for you finish up everything."

"Mark shouldn't, he doesn't get bored too easily."

**SPN**

Sam had done well enough to get into the law program, so he had registered for the applicable classes as well as Honors Freshman English, Honors Algebra II, AP World History, Honors Biology, and-

"Band?" Dean glanced at the schedule back at the motel room, "Really, since when do you play an instrument?"

"I don't. But I think it might be neat to." He shrugged, "Besides, with my schedule it was either band or drama, and I suck at acting."

"Fair enough. I don't think I'd ever want to see you in tights anyway." Dean joked, turning back to the classified ads in the paper. _God if you're there, don't fuck this up-Sammy deserves normal for once. Please just keep dad at bay…_

**SPN**

_Fuck. Holy fucking shit. Alright John, you're not dead. You're in the hotel room…_ John Winchester steadied himself, ready to beat the shit out of his attacker. _Wait a minute… Dean._ His eyes narrowed as he realized that the throbbing in his head wasn't the result of a random bar brawl or a monster. His own shit-for-brains son had done this.

"Dean you piece of shit! Get out here this instant or I swear to God I'll-" John kicked open the bathroom door to find no one in the moldy tan tiled space. He squinted as he flipped open the closet, then yanked the curtains. The Impala was still there. So where the hell were they?

Quick note from the author: Hello everyone! I have this piece nearly completed and will be posting the rest in a few chunks shortly. I promise I'm still working on Adaptation, but I got an itch from somewhere to finish this one (I mentioned it all the way at the end of Down to Earth, if you can believe it and not getting to it has been driving me nuts). I will be posting the next chapter of Adaptation shortly, and will also be posting the other story mentioned in the epilogue "Death Seeker" soon enough as well. Happy New Year and best wishes for a better 2020!


	3. Budesonide

**Chapter 3: Budesonide**

Sam's first day was a Monday. The school was massive enough it was unlikely that the single new student would be noticed, and he kinda liked that. Being another face in the crowd was a pleasant change of pace from being the freak new kid whose family hunted monsters. _I wonder if Dean and I will end up ever hunting again? Dean likes it, well, I think he likes it. _Sam sighed internally and tried to just block out everything related to his family. Maybe if he just acted like a normal kid he would feel normal, or at least like less of an outsider than he normally felt.

Dean had taken him shopping for school supplies with the last of their cash over the weekend, but he had a few interviews that went well, so Sam hoped things would work out-he didn't want to have Dean forge another credit card to be able to pay for stuff. The bus picked him up along with a dozen other students at the corner, most of them ignoring the new student in their midst. It was the same way with most of his classes. He said hello occasionally, but with the exception of the other kids in legal studies and a handful of guys in his math class most of the student body seemed indifferent.

**SPN**

_Parts manager. Ugh._ Dean hated desk jobs, but it paid helluva a lot better than mechanic. His near encyclopedic knowledge of Chevy parts from the years working on the Impala (and some time with Bobby a few summers ago) had paid off. Some dealer needed a new parts guy and he got the job. Mainly his job was getting parts for repairs, ordering new parts in, and delivering parts to the dealer's smaller satellite locations from the main one where the parts warehouse was. It was a 9 to 5, hourly (because he wasn't near skilled enough to get a salaried job), and the pay was decent-though the benefits were the main reason he ended up taking it.

With Sammy now needing an inhaler-and inhalers lasting only a month each-there was a need for health coverage. There was also the issue of doctor's visits to check if the medication was working properly, as well as finally getting them both up-to-date on shots (seriously, Dean couldn't remember the last time either of them had had a doctor's checkup). It would've cost a small fortune on its own, and even though insurance ate half his paycheck it was still much cheaper than if he had to pay out of pocket.

_This whole 'total responsibility' thing is a pain in the ass. But it's for Sammy. So quit bitching and take it like a man, Dean._ Dean rubbed his temple as he sorted through a stack of claims to get a list of parts he needed to order in. He hated computers, he hated wearing ties, and he hated bullshitting with other people. This job had all three. He exhaled deeply as he typed a list of part numbers on the amber CRT monitor and took a sip of coffee. The stuff tasted amazing, courtesy of Hannah-_who was not only super sexy, but also the only one who could make coffee that didn't taste like brown piss_-he took another sip and sat down his mug, glancing at the clock to see if he was any closer to escaping from the small parts office.

**SPN**

Phys Ed was never one of Sam's favorite subjects. It always reminded him too much of his father's training regimen. The class was outside on the football field practicing a variety of track and field events. They were divided alphabetically into a few small groups to rotate between stations.

"Alright! Collins, Cooper, Daugherty, and Evans-you're group 2. You're starting with the mile run." The gym coach, a woman in her late 30s with short blonde hair pointed at a station on the edge of the track. Sam walked over along with the other three students. He recognized Cooper from his science class, it was hard to forget a guy wearing a plaid sweater-vest; and Daugherty might have been in Math with him, she looked vaguely familiar. The group wasn't being timed; it was just an exercise for the point of exercise. They had to do four laps of the stadium.

They each chose a lane and started, Sam paced himself and tried to stay toward the middle of the group. Daugherty was clearly on some sports team, quickly taking a large lead, but the others were around where Sam was comfortably jogging. As he rounded the second lap Sam took a moment to look around at his surroundings. It was a sunny day and the large brick building did well to cast off heat in the sun. The grass around the school was verdant, and a lawn crew was just beginning to mow the lawn across from the stadium-the distinct rumble of a small gas motor humming happily in the afternoon sun.

As the second lap turned into the third Sam felt his chest getting tight. He didn't want to slow down-it would surely draw the ire of the coach if he stopped-so he pushed through. The fourth lap indicated that this was a mistake. Sam slowed down and placed his hands on his knees, he was panting, but not breathing. _Where the hell is my inhaler?!_ He patted his pockets before realizing he'd left it in his backpack, which was currently sitting in his gym-locker inside the school. He silently cursed himself as he started to feel more severe stabs at his side. He needed to get his inhaler. The other runners had taken notice, with Daugherty doubling back (having already completed her mile) and Cooper pausing from his run to come over.

"Hey, are you alright?" Cooper asked, offering Sam a hand to get upright.

"No… inhaler… in backpack…" Sam wheezed, hating how he sounded _God, I'm pathetic_, but too concerned about passing out to bother trying to put on a front.

"Your inhaler? Like, for asthma?" Daugherty furrowed her brow.

Sam nodded, the wheezing now turning into coughing.

"Okay, which locker is yours?" Cooper asked, clearly forming some plan.

Sam flashed a 1, 4, and 3 with his fingers.

"143. Okay. Do you have your key?" Sam nodded, fiddling with his gym shorts to pull out a silver key, then handed it to the bespectacled boy. "Laura, tell Coach Franklin I'm getting Collins' inhaler. You get him inside to the nurse. I'll meet you there in a minute."

He took off much faster than he'd been going around the track-likely due to the pressing nature of the current situation.

Daugherty supported Sam, placing his arm around her shoulder and helping him across the field to where Coach Franklin was busy guiding pushups at a station. "Coach Franklin, Collins left his inhaler inside and is having an asthma attack. I'm taking him to the nurse and Mikey is grabbing his inhaler from his gym locker."

Coach turned toward them, seeing Sam clearly in distress causing her eyebrows to shoot toward the visor on her head. "Okay Laura, when you get there have Nurse Carmody call me on the radio."

She nodded, helping Sam across the rest of the field and toward the sidewalk that led to the building. Once they got inside it was up a flight from the gym entrance to the rest of the building, then down a hallway to the nurse. Mikey was already waiting there for them, with the nurse holding Sam's inhaler.

"Jared, I'm going to help you with your inhaler. I need you to take a deep breath on three. Okay?" She held his inhaler to his lips.

Sam nodded and opened his mouth.

"One. Two. Three." She puffed the inhaler, releasing a mist into Sam's windpipe. It helped, but Sam still felt like his lungs were a size too small. She waited a minute, "Okay, now again. One. Two. Three." She puffed a second time.

Within five minutes of the second dose Sam was feeling normal. "Thank you." He said, no longer coughing.

"Mister Collins, you need to remember to keep this on you at all times." She warned him, with a clear matronly tone.

"Sorry, I'm kinda new to the whole 'lungs giving out on me' thing." Sam rubbed his arm against his neck, embarrassed.

"That's alright. You're just lucky that your friends looked out for you." Nurse Carmody smiled, "Alright, the period's almost over, you three get back and get changed. And Jared, no physical exercise that intense for the rest of the day!"

Sam nodded as he and the two others left the nurse's office.

"So that's your first name." Mikey stated as the three walked down the main corridor. "Sorry to say but I already'd forgotten from this morning. Nice to meet you, Jared." He stuck out his hand.

"Thanks Mikey. Nice to meet you too." Sam replied, shaking.

Laura rolled her eyes, "Mikey please stop 'networking' and act like a normal human being." She turned towards Sam, "He means well but he reads way too many books on business."

"Well, it's not the worst hobby there is…" He defended.

"In any case, it's good to meet you Jared." She rooted around in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and pencil, "Here's our numbers…" She stuck her tongue out as she wrote, "We usually hang out at the mall with the rest of our friends after school. Stop by sometime and we'll introduce you."

"Thanks…" Sam took the paper and stuck it in his pocket. _Well this has got to be the weirdest way I've ever made friends…_

**SPN**

That night Sam told Dean about everything, including his new friends.

"Thank God those kids looked out for you. I guess we need to do some research, neither of us knows too much about asthma and I don't want you having any of these attacks if we can help it." Dean took a bite out of his burger, "Nurse makes sense, better keep your inhaler on you all the time."

Sam was relieved Dean seemed to be taking the news okay, he was half worried his brother would freak out on him because he had another attack. "Yeah, I've been keeping it on me. It's a bit bulky, but it works. Speaking of, how was work?"

"Not bad. Not great. Believe me, you're not missing anything by being at school instead of working. All I do is sit at a little desk and punch in numbers half the time. The route's okay, and so is getting parts for the mechanics, but all that computer bullshit is just the worst." Dean groused.

After dinner Sam worked on his homework at the small table while Dean took a shower. He was halfway through his history notes when he realized Dean had been in the shower way longer than the usual four minutes-with Sam going to school Dean had been getting up earlier, but now with work he'd settled into an evening routine. Sam got up and knocked on the door, "Hey Dean, everything okay? You've been in there a while."

"I'm fine. Just getting cleaned up. Out in a minute."

Sam shrugged and turned back to the table. When Dean came out he was wearing a bathrobe. Sam frowned. Dean usually just threw on a towel and grabbed his clothes to change. Something was wrong.

"Hey Dean, can you help me with something?"

"Sammy you know I'm not great at history. What is it?" Dean came over and leaned on the table, most of his weight on the right arm.

Sam turned to his brother and did something he never imagined he would, he yanked the robe off his shoulders to his waist, leaving a nearly naked Dean immediately trying to cover up his left shoulder. It was black and blue and looked like it had been dislocated and popped back in improperly half-a-dozen times. Sam's eyes widened as he looked in horror at the bruising, then they further grew upon seeing additional large bruises across his torso.

"Dean… What happened?" Sam gasped, trying to imagine what could've done that much damage to his seemingly invincible older brother.

"Nothing." Dean quickly pulled the robe back up and got up from the table, walking to get clothes from his dresser.

"Nothing my ass. Dean, what the hell happened?" Sam stood in front of Dean, who pushed past and went into the bathroom. Sam pounded on the door until Dean finally opened it, wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

"It was nothing. Drop it."

"Dean, I need you to tell me what happened. Did someone at work do this?"

"No."

"Well, then were you mugged?"

"No."

"Dean, what-"

"I said DROP IT." Dean glared as he sat on his bed, turning away from Sam.

"Dean, if someone hurt you I'm going to help you get back at them. I know you're always protecting me, but this time I'm going to help protect you."

Dean laughed coldly, "Sammy, you have no idea how much I protect you from. And I don't want you to. Just stay out of it. It's fine. It's not going to happen again."

"Well how can I know that if I don't know what happened?!" Sam was almost yelling.

"Because I said so!"

"That's not an answer."

"It's fine, just drop it!"

"Dean, please…"

"Fine, what do you want me to say? 'Because it was Dad!'"

A silence filled the room as Sam's face immediately dropped and Dean lay on his side, facing away from his brother, ashamed of himself.

"Dad did that?" Sam reached out to place a hand on his brother's back.

"Yeah…"

"Why did he do that? I thought Dad liked you…"

Dean's face twisted, "He did it because I took you to the hospital instead of finishing up the hunt. He said I should've left you, killed the wendigo, then come back for you-_though there was a lot more profanity in his version._" Dean rolled over to his back, "But before you blame yourself, it wasn't you. Dad does this all the time. Why do you think I always tell you to go to an arcade or the movies when we aren't on the hunt?"

"You sent me away all the time so Dad would wail on you instead of me?" Sam was horrified as the realization dawned on him.

"Yup." Dean bitterly curled into himself.

"Dean, why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew Dad would have some excuse. And if you knew then it just meant he'd probably go after you too." Dean looked at his hands, hating himself.

Sam hugged his brother, tears in his eyes. "Hey, get off me. No chick-flick stuff." Dean protested.

"Fuck that. Dean, I love you. I know you love me." Dean averted his eyes at the use of the word, "I can hug my brother, and I'm going to hug my brother. Hug me back, or don't. I know this doesn't fix what happened, but it's the only thing I can do to try and help aside from saying 'I'm sorry'." Dean reluctantly patted Sam on the back as the two sat on the bed. After a minute Sam released.

"I love you Dean."

"Me too, Sammy…"


	4. Formoterol

**Chapter 4: Formoterol**

_2 br. 1 ba. Apt., new carpet/cabinets. Util. incl. $700/mo._ Dean crossed the listing off his potential apartment list. It had been a bust. Not only was the place completely infested with roaches, the landlord was clearly into some other less-than-savory businesses. It had been one of the few places he could afford that was big enough for him and Sammy that was still in the area. _Why the hell was it so expensive to live anywhere?!_

Dean folded up the paper and went back to his desk from the break room, making sure to try and bypass Craig. Craig Roberts was Dean's boss, and by all accounts a really nice guy. The only problem was that he was _way_ too invested in his employee's personal lives. When he hired Dean he'd wanted to learn everything about him _so that they could end up friends? (_Dean guessed). This was a pain for Dean who was living under a false identity and didn't feel like coming up with convincing lies about everything his boss asked him about to try to connect. Dean quietly tried to bypass Craig's office (window blinds always up so he could see out) and was quickly caught with a cheerful grin and a beckoning motion to come in. Dean sighed and entered the small office.

"Hey Mark! I know you've been here for a little while, but I barely know anything about you. Here's what I think-you and me and the misses should get together and have a little barbecue this weekend, get a chance to know each other! I promise my Lorelei can make a mean rack of ribs…" He smiled, genuinely wanting to connect.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" Dean began.

"Mark, come on. I just want to know you a bit better. I know you think I'm nosy, but I really just want to get to know who this 'Mark Collins' I hired is. You've been avoiding me ever since you started. You can have your privacy, but indulge me a little. I don't even know your favorite color!"

Dean sighed, _I need to get him off my back. Fuck it,_ "Okay. What time should I come?"

Craig smiled, "Around noon on Saturday. Don't bring anything, we'll have more than enough if I know my wife!" He chuckled as Dean nodded and silently cursed himself for giving in.

**SPN**

814 Palm Drive was a large house. Dean didn't know what he'd expected when he had taken down his boss' address, but 'stately' was not among the descriptors he would have initially thought. The large stucco home was two floors and seemed to have a Spanish influence (as did the rest of the homes in the neighborhood). It sat back from the cul-de-sac it was on and had a massive front flowerbed with all sorts of blooming plants. Dean knew his boss made good money, but he hadn't expected he made _this _much.

Sam was also amazed at the neighborhood. It looked like something out of a real-estate brochure. All the houses were identical and almost brand-new. There were a ton of people just milling about, and he saw a roller hockey game with a few guys his age in the street. It was a shocking dose of normalcy for the teen who'd never had a permanent address.

A woman in her late thirties opened the door when dean rung the bell, "Hello! You must be Dean!"

Dean smiled, turning on the charm, "And you must be Lorelei. It's nice to meet you."

She smiled, "Pleasure's all mine. Y'know Craig's been saying to me, 'You've gotta meet this Dean fellow I have at work'. He likes you, y'know. Keep it up and he might take you out of that dinky office and put you somewhere a bit nicer." She turned to Sam, "Oh, and who are you?"

"I'm Jared. Mark's my brother." He waved.

"Nice to meet you Jared. You boys follow me, he's already out back working on burgers. My ribs have been out there for a bit too, so we should have those in about an hour…" She led the two through the large home to the backyard. It was a good sized lot, with a tall fence encasing the yard. There was a screened-in pool and a patio, and what looked like a second, smaller house off to the side.

"What's with the second house?" Sam pointed at the cottage behind the much larger home.

"That's our pool house. Originally my parents were going to move in with us down here, but my father had an accident and they had to move to a facility that can provide 24 hour care. It's unfortunate, but sometimes life doesn't go the way you hoped." Lorelei sighed, looking longingly at the home.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…" Sam replied, feeling guilty at upsetting their host.

"Oh, don't worry-I'm at peace with it now-though it would be nice to have some use for it. Right now Craig just uses it to store our Christmas decorations." She waved a hand and led them to the glass table next to the grill.

"Hey Mark! I didn't know you were bringing anybody-who's this?" Craig looked up from the grill, smiling as he wiped his brow from the heat of the cook surface radiating up.

"I'm Jared, Mark's younger brother."

"Good to meet you Jared! You go to school around here?"

"Yeah, Boone. I'm in the legal studies program."

"Good for you! I heard that's pretty tough to get into." He turned to Dean, "How come you never told me about your genius kid brother?"

"You never asked." Dean shrugged-it was true, he'd been asked about his own past many times, but never anything about his family.

"Well, I suppose that's fair. Tell ya what, why don't I get this meat taken care of and you two enjoy yourselves in the pool for a bit until then. But after eats, I intend to finally get the mysterious Mark Collins to crack!" He smiled, joking.

**SPN**

The afternoon was actually relatively pleasant. Dean had briefed Sam in advance on their cover, so the two would be able to lie effectively when questioned. Craig didn't seem too prying after the initial bases were covered(where Dean grew up, what sports he liked, how he got into cars, etc.), and the conversation was light for the most part. After a few drinks were had Dean was a bit more willing to share, "…and so I'm like, seriously trying, but there's nowhere that's even half decent that I can afford. No offense, I'm happy with my pay, it's just everywhere's so _damn_ expensive." Dean paused, rubbing the arm of his chair. Sam was in the pool while he chatted with Craig, it was so weirdly apple-pie normal, but Dean was able to fake it for now.

"Well, I might have an idea…" Craig's eyes lit up as he spoke, "Hear me out. I know we aren't close, and I know you like your privacy, but just listen. I've seen a lot of parts guys in my day-most of 'em were pretty good. You're certainly one of the best in a _long _time. You've got drive-no pun intended. And beyond that you're a good guy-I don't know how you ended up in charge of your brother, and I'm not going to pry because I know you don't wanna share, but you're basically his dad and you seem to do a pretty good job of it. If you want you could rent out my pool house. It's tiny, but it has its own kitchen and bathroom and a small bedroom too. You two can stay there until you've got some funds built up, then move out. Or keep renting it for a while until you see fit. Either way, I don't mind."

Dean paused, he was unsure of how to react. He certainly appreciated the offer-the idea of a stable housing situation was something Sammy needed, and the neighborhood was pretty nice-but was unsure of the idea of living so close to his boss, and being his tenant. On one hand there was the relative safety, on the other the having to constantly lie with risk of discovery… Dean watched Sam cannon-ball into the pool and laugh as he happily surfaced. Lorelei cheered as he pumped his arms up, mimicking an Olympic victory pose. "Alright. But I don't want to feel like you're doing this out of pity. I'm paying a fair rent and I don't want anyone at work to know."

"I understand." Craig nodded, "Privacy's important, I get it."

**SPN**

John's first few attempts were useless. Everyone he called or interrogated was useless. No one had seen or heard from his boys. _Where the fuck were they?!_ He cursed his luck as he lit a new cigarette. _That bastard Singer didn't have 'em, and no one else knows anything._ The missing car had been easy enough to connect, but with the airport-they could be anywhere, even international with the flights that night. John pulled out a list of the flights from that night, nothing seemed like an easy answer.

_Wait, why the hell didn't I think of it sooner?_ John picked up the landline in the motel, rifling through the phonebook, and dialed.

"Franklinsburg Airport Help Desk."

"Hello, I'm Detective Ron Harris with Springfield Police. We have a missing persons case where two teens went missing, with their vehicle being found at the airport-is it possible that you might have security footage to help me find them?"

"Certainly sir, we can schedule a meeting for you to review the tapes as soon as you're ready. I'm certain our security department will be more than willing to assist you."

"Excellent." John smiled, "You're doing me a great service in helping find these two."


	5. Mometasone

**Chapter 5: Mometasone**

Sam and Dean had moved into the pool house the weekend following Craig's offer. While certainly not spacious by any definition, it was larger than the cramped motel rooms that the two were used to. Seeing as they had absolutely no possessions to speak of-aside from their clothes and a few hunter things that Dean had nabbed from the motel where he smashed John's head with a lamp-Dean reluctantly decided it was time to forge a credit card and go to IKEA.

"Since this is the only place we can afford to get furniture from-and Danny only let me borrow his truck today-we need to get everything here…" Dean walked into the massive warehouse store, followed closely by Sam pushing a shopping cart.

Sam's eyes widened as he stared at the massive expanse of furniture in front of them. "Wow! This place is enormous." He turned to Dean, "But how the hell are we going to get anything home, we have one pickup and need, like, thirty different things?"

Dean picked up a map by the entrance, "In addition to reliable but ugly cars, the Swedes also excel in one other thing: flat pack furniture." He gestured to a couch on display near them, "This couch-" He pointed at the box beneath the display, "-fits in this box."

"How?"

"Fuck if I know. All I know is that we have to put it together later, which is why it's cheap." Dean flipped open the map and started looking over the departments. "Alright, so since this place is a giant maze, let's get started looking for a couch that I can sleep on…"

**SPN**

Three hours and two meatball platters later the brothers were unloading the last of the furniture into the house. Dean had already returned the pickup, then the two had drug the boxes across the backyard into their new home.

"Alright, that's the last of them. Now we just need to get them all put together." Dean huffed as Sam took a quick breath from his inhaler.

Sam glanced at the pile dubiously, "Alright…"

The two worked surprisingly well to get everything put together, and by dinner the only remaining item was a dresser that Sam had decided could wait until the next day. The small space was cozy, the new fold-out bed, kitchen table, and chair taking up the shared room (with Dean's future dresser sitting neatly in its box in the corner). Sam's room-_Because Dean had insisted that I be the one to get his own room-_had a new bed, desk, and dresser. It was home. For Sam it meant permanence, something he'd never had before. As he glanced at the beige walls he felt something come over him. So when Dean turned around he was surprised to see him confused.

"Sammy, is everything okay? You're crying."

"Yeah-I guess it's just, I never had, like, my own room. Or house. Or, anything, really."

"Well, you do now." Dean stated firmly-refusing to partake in a chick-flick moment, "Now come on and grab a plate, dinner's done.

**SPN**

Orlando. John scowled. _Of all the places my sons could decide to run off to they decided to go to some fucking theme park?_ It was clearly Sam's idea. Dean would've never suggested anything so pointless or 'normal'. _That boy's obsession with 'normal' is idiotic. With that thing still out there, there isn't normal anymore. _

John stared out the window as his plane taxied, pulling into the airport. The pilot came on the radio, "Hello passengers. We have just arrived at Orlando International Airport! It is 10:17pm local time with a temperature of 81 degrees. We thank you for flying American and remind you to bring all personal belongings with you as you depart the plane."

_Alright boys. I'm almost there._

**SPN**

"Hey Mikey, it's Jared." Sam held the phone, twirling the cord. Dean had okayed him spending the day at the mall with friends, but on the condition that he could stick close-_Which probably means he'll be tailing me the whole day until I just decide to introduce him._

"Hey Jared, what's up?"

"Not much. I'm thinking of going to the mall later-I know earlier you and Laura had mentioned hanging out there."

"Yeah, us and a few other people from school are going over later-I've got church this morning, but after that we'll be meeting up. You know the Plaza?"

"No, not really…" Sam blushed slightly.

"Sorry-I forgot you're new. The Plaza is the middle of the mall where the food court is. We usually meet up there. Show up around two and I'll introduce you around."

"Okay, cool."

"Awesome-gotta go, my mom's trying to use the other line."

Sam and Dean walked through the doors of the J. C. Penny's shortly before two, going through the department store to reach the rest of the mall. Dean didn't care much for shopping-let alone window shopping-but it was another dose of normalcy for Sammy, so he'd tough it out. After walking out of the second floor entrance the brothers were blinded as the mid-day sun beamed through the sky-lights of the shopping center. People milled about as cheery Christmas music played over the loudspeaker.

Sam smiled as he saw ribbons wrapped around the palm trees planted in the center of the mall, "Y'know I don't think I've ever seen a Christmas tree look like that before."

Dean smirked, "Well, it is Florida, Sammy-they can't very well have a pine tree-that wouldn't be tropical enough."

Sam rolled his eyes, Dean had been teasing him on occasion about how his brother hated winter enough to choose the only state without snow-to which he'd countered that most of southwest was snow-free. Dean didn't care, his point still worked. They reached the Plaza after a few minutes and Dean saw a mass of teens clustered around a pretzel stand.

Sam waved as he approached, Laura and Mikey waving back. Dean nodded politely, then turned away, making sure that he was still within earshot and vision of his brother-just in case…

"Who was that with you?" Laura asked, sipping a lemonade.

"That was my brother, Mark."

"I wish my brother was cool enough to drive me to the mall-I always have to walk." Mikey lamented, dipping his pretzel into an unhealthy amount of fake cheese.

"Well, we did walk-he doesn't have a car…" Sam could feel himself getting hot.

Mikey bit his lip, "Err… sorry-I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

"Sorry about Mikey, he has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth on occasion." Laura redirected, "But, you probably already know that."

Sam thought back, "Well, he did say orgasm instead of organism on Friday during his science report."

"Not that he would know what one of those is…" Laura ribbed him.

"Har-har." Mikey quipped, "But enough about me, I suppose you'll wanna meet the others." He led Sam back to the table where a few other teens sat. "Hey guys, this is Jared. He's new."

"Hey-what's up." A large boy with glasses nodded, "I'm Vance."

Sam nodded politely, smiling.

"Nice to meet you!" An Asian girl wearing a sleeveless jean jacket stuck out her hand, "I'm Tamara Imahara."

"Jared Collins, nice to meet you too." He shook her hand.

A third boy, this one with blonde hair nodded and started moving his hands. "That's Paul-he says _It's nice to meet you Jared._" Mikey translated, "Paul's mute, but most of us know ASL so we can translate if you need help understanding him-not that it's hard with the way he acts."

Paul rolled his eyes and flipped off Mikey, to which he also received the bird.

"Nice to meet you-sorry I don't know the hand movement for it…" Sam swallowed anxiously.

"And I'm Kim." An African-American girl with butterfly clips in her hair smiled from the end of the table, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jared."

Sam smiled, "Good to meet you too."

Laura checked her watch, "Well, come on, we've been talking long enough, let's walk and talk-I finally saved up enough for a new controller after Mikey broke the last one."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't get Diet Coke out of a SNES controller." She rolled her eyes, "And besides, The Dungeon is easily the best store on this side of the mall…"

**SPN**

Dean had carefully tailed the teens (not that that had been too difficult) from a video game store to a comic shop to a Spencer's to a different comic shop to an ice-cream stall to a CD store-and he was getting bored. He glanced at his watch-_It's been four hours, how on earth are you still going? You haven't even bought anything!_-and decided that he'd give Sam one more store, then 'run into' him and his friends.

After the teens left a clothing store Dean decided it was time to reappear. "Oh, hey Jared!" Dean waved at Sam.

Sam glanced over from his friends to his brother, who walking over toward the group. "Hey Mark. What's up?"

"Figured I'd see if you were ready to head out, it's been a bit and I wanted to check in."

Sam glanced at his friends-while his brother was clearly being overprotective, no one seemed too judgmental of it, "Yeah, we were just finishing up anyway." He turned toward the cluster, "I'll see you guys at school-I've gotta go."

"Alright, see ya Jared." Mikey replied.

"Have a good one." Laura nodded, as the others also mumbled goodbyes.

The brothers walked back out of the J. C. Penny's and toward their home. "Thanks Dean."

"For what?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"For, y'know, looking out for me and still letting me be, like, normal." Sam shrugged. "I've never really been able to do anything like that before. Dad always kept us close for the hunt. I think this is the first time I've been in a mall just for fun." He smiled, "I know you don't like chick-flick moments, but I do love you Dean. You're pretty awesome; even if all my friends caught on that you were following us."

Dean scowled, "How'd they see me? I stayed hidden pretty well."

"Dude, Paul's got-like hawk-eye vision or something-because after he spotted you he let Mikey know and the rest of them kept a running tally of how many times they spotted you. Laura won, by the way, after you nearly dove in front of a trash can to hide."

Dean huffed, "Well, anyway, you're welcome." He smiled at his brother, "Come on, let's go home."


	6. Vilanterol

**Chapter 6: Vilanterol**

Sam rifled through his backpack for a pen. The permission slips were due Monday and he'd totally forgotten to get Dean to sign his. Thankfully he'd learned well enough how to forge signatures. Freshmen were going on a field trip to Disney before break and there was no way in hell he was missing that.

Sam signed the yellow slip and tore it off of the disclosure form. Because of his financial situation (he and Dean were technically well below the poverty line), coupled with sympathy for him because of his perceived orphan status the school had waived the fee for him-but he still had to submit the form. He stuffed the other half of the paper in his locker before rushing to homeroom to hand in the form.

**SPN**

The trip was on Friday. Sam had already debriefed Dean on everything and explained that he'd had to forge his signature-_Which Dean was more proud of than annoyed at-_so when he boarded the bus early Friday morning he was looking forward to a good day. He had a little spending money-_At Dean's insistence-_and was looking forward to spending a day at "The happiest place on earth".

The buses unloaded in front of the Magic Kingdom shortly before nine. According to the schedule there was a mandatory check in at noon, and the buses would leave that night at six. Students were allowed to go to other parks, but had to be at the check in and be back in the Magic Kingdom by five. The freshmen flooded off the buses and Sam quickly joined his friends as they decided what the plan for the day would be.

"Okay, so we're definitely going to Epcot later, but aside from that I think we're staying in Magic Kingdom." Laura summarized as the group nodded.

Sam had thought about seeing MGM Studios, but had decided against it when he realized the length of the tram ride between parks would've eaten a good chunk of their day. Honestly he wasn't too disappointed; as long as he got to enjoy a day out he'd be happy.

**SPN**

Dean fiddled with his collar as he finished the last invoice. It was Friday, which meant there weren't any deliveries, only paperwork. He sighed as he glanced at the clock-_Please let something happen to get the rest of today over fast-_as if an answer to his silent wish his desk phone rang.

"Mark Collins, Orlando Chevrolet-Buick-GMC-Cadillac." He rang off.

"Mr. Collins, this is George Sanders-I'm a teacher at your brother Jared's school."

Dean's face fell into a familiar stony set, "Is everything okay?"

"Unfortunately, no. Your brother was involved in an accident today during our field trip to Disney World."

Dean's blood ran cold, "Is he okay?"

"At the moment we're unsure of his injuries. He was on a ride when a technical malfunction caused his cart to tip over; he and another student were ejected. Both were taken in critical condition to Orlando Memorial." He paused, "As far as I've heard he is critical but stable."

Dean was at the hospital within minutes, having borrowed a rental car after explaining the situation to Craig. Sam was in the ICU, though as he arrived Dean was told that Sam was being upgraded to a regular room.

"That's good, right?" Dean anxiously asked the receptionist.

"Yes Mr. Collins, your brother's vitals are stable and we have gotten his bleeding under control. He is still being sedated for his own comfort, but he should be just fine in some time."

"Oh thank God." Dean exhaled. "What about the other kid?" He remembered the other student on the ride.

"While I am not at liberty to discuss the condition of other patients I will day this, your brother is a fighter Mr. Collins. Not everyone has that in them."

**SPN**

Sam woke up in a hospital room for the second time in as many months. His head hurt and his mouth felt dry as he looked around the room. The first thing he saw was Dean, passed out on a visitor's chair beside his bed. The second was that he had an arm in a sling and a fairly large number of bandages around his left side, his leg especially looked like it had been covered in layers of gauze. While he couldn't feel them now, he was certain that they'd hurt like a bitch once he was off of painkillers.

"Dean." Sam nudged his brother with his right arm.

Dean stirred, "Sammy?"

"I'm here. I'm right here Dean."

**SPN**

_Almost fifty fucking high schools. _John looked over the list he'd printed out at the library. _And even without the private ones it's still a massive list._ He looked at the list. _Fine. Let's just get this started. _He circled the first school-Colonial High School-and began flipping through the YellowPages for Orlando.


	7. Beclomethasone

**Chapter 7: Beclomethasone**

Sam was released Tuesday, which ended up being near a week before Christmas. As it turned out Sam had survived-albeit with a permanent limp and three less toes-though the other girl, Samantha, hadn't.

"Dean. Why did I live when she died?" Sam was staring out the window of their house as a rain fell across the backyard.

Dean inhaled, he'd nearly lost it when he thought Sammy was in danger, and honestly a lot of him was screaming to never let him out of sight again-_But that wouldn't work. Sammy needs a regular life, and regular people have accidents…_ "I don't know."

"It's fucked up. She was normal. She had a family-brothers, a sister, mom and dad. She was on honor roll and had a shot at making it." Sam placed his head on the sill. "She meant something to so many people. Instead she died and I'm here."

"Sammy-"

"Dean, I'm nothing. Chances are I'll never end up doing anything worthwhile. If I can manage to graduate, neither of us can afford to get me into a college-I can't hunt with my legs and my lungs fucked up-I'm literally not worth anything to anyone." Sam's face felt hot as he held back tears.

"Sammy that's not true." Dean sat beside his brother. "You mean something to me. Yeah, I know I'm your brother, but beyond that." Dean sighed, _Fuck it, I guess it has to get chick-flick,_ "I don't know why that girl died. You know I'm not really into the whole 'benevolent ruler of the universe thing', but if there's a god-or not-everything happens for some reason. I saw pictures of the accident. The car behind yours was a family with two little kids. If it wasn't for you, they'd've been in that car and that girl would've been at the back. But besides that, you aren't worthless. Look, I know dad did a lot to mess with your self esteem-_and mine_-but he's gone. I'm telling you-you are worth it. Whatever happens to you I'll always be there to help you and cheer you on. So stop hating on yourself and realize that life goes on. I love you, and there are going to be lots of other people who care about you." Dean smiled, "So let's just hug-or whatever-and then go do something, okay?"

"Thanks Dean." Sam rubbed his eyes before latching onto his brother. Dean sighed as he rubbed Sam's back until the thin teen let go. He had a new spark in his eye, "Dean, I know it's kinda dumb, but I think a Christmas tree might cheer me up all the way. A real one. Could we get one?"

Dean rolled his eyes, knowing better than to try and argue with Sammy when he pulled out the puppy dog eyes, "Fine. But it has to be a table-top one. We don't have room for a big one."

**SPN**

Colonial was a bust. _What kind of school doesn't keep files on their students in the building?!_ He fisted his hands in his pockets as he slunk back to the motel. _Where the hell would they keep it if the fucking record room was empty?_ He opened a copy of the Sentinel and angrily glanced through the articles. _Might as well try and find a hunt while I'm here._ Nothing in the headlines, and locals weren't useful, he was nearing giving up while leafing through business when a short article caught his attention.

_Orange County Schools Consolidating Student Records_

_The Orange County School District has partnered with data analysis firm, Kline Kapital, to digitize student records and create a central database. The process is complete aside from final interface design, with even recent student transfers fully up-to-date in the held data. According to spokeswoman Sara Valentino, 'An online student database will allow the district greater access to information in case of emergencies and allow a smoother process for discipline and student record-keeping'. Parents should be able to access a student portal showing class listings and student information by the beginning of next semester._

"A fucking database?" John raggedly sighed as he looked up the address for Kline Kapital. _I guess I'm going to have to get a suit._

**SPN**

Craig and Lorelei had flown north to visit their children for Christmas, so Sam and Dean had the run of the pool and yard while they were gone. Sam had gotten his tree, and even convinced Dean to put up a few decorations outside of the house (borrowed from the pile that had once been stored in their living room). As Dean was finishing putting up a string of lights Sam was finishing up on the phone.

"Okay, cool, I'll see-if I can I'll be there in a bit."

Dean looked down from the ladder as Sam exited the house, "Who was that?"

"It was Kim, she invited me to go last-minute gift shopping at the mall with her." Sam fiddled with his sleeve as he looked up, "I know you said you didn't want me to buy you anything, but I want to-and I do have a little money saved up from odds-and-ends…" _Mainly hustling a few chumps at the arcade_, "…so I was wondering if you'd take me there later?"

Dean clipped the last light in place and descended the ladder, "Alright Sammy, I'll walk you over-but nothing big, please." He leveled his eyes to meet Sam's, "And be careful. I won't follow you around this time, but I'm staying in the mall. When you're done just head to the Plaza, I'll check in there every hour on the hour."

Sam nodded, "Thanks Dean."

**SPN**

_Well, I managed to get Sammy a few things for Christmas._ Dean rifled through the few plastic shopping bags he was carrying. He didn't have nearly enough money for anything new, he had managed to get a used NES at the one video-game store, as well as a few cartridges that looked okay. Besides that there were a few shirts and a cassette-_Because Sammy really likes Nirvana for some reason-_and one plastic bag from the Borders.

He met up with Sammy and the two returned home, with Dean wrapping the gifts before his brother could manage to snoop. After dinner and cards Sam retired to his room and Dean slid the Borders bag out from under the sofa. He sighed as he slid the yellow book out from the bag. _How to Pass the GED for Dummies_. Dean felt like a dumbass more than a dummy. _You're doing this for Sammy._

He cracked open the book and started reading the first chapter, stopping halfway through to rub his temples. _God reading sucks._ He blinked and tried to get the letters to stay still on the page. Dean had never been a good reader-he'd never really been good at school in general-and any time he tried to get help at school Dad always shot it down-after all, _You don't need to be a fucking genius to know how to shoot something_. Dean closed the book and put his head on the table.


	8. Triamcinolone

**Chapter 8: Triamcinolone**

"Alright Jared, I need you to blow through this tube as hard as you can, then take a deep breath back in with your mouth still on the tube. When you're done inhaling you can take the tube out." The nurse explained as Sam stood next to the apparatus at the end of the hallway. Dean was in the waiting room, per his request, but Sam still wasn't extremely comfortable being on his own in a hospital-especially given how nearly all his memories of them were associated with near-death experiences.

After the breathing test the nurse had him return to his room. After what felt like an eternity flipping through outdated issues of _Life_ and _People_ the doctor returned. "Good morning Jared, well it looks like your inhaler is helping take care of most of the symptoms. Your curve was much more stable after the dosage, so I don't think we'll need to change your emergency inhaler. Are you currently using a nebulizer?"

"No, I don't believe so." Sam replied.

"Believe me you'd know what one is if you used it. In that case I am going to recommend a daily inhaler to add to help stabilize and minimize symptoms." He quickly scribbled a note on a prescription pad, "This is for Truarix, it's a daily maintenance inhaler. You take one puff in the morning and that's it. You'll still need an emergency inhaler, but this should help reduce the need for it. You can get that filled at the pharmacy window on the way out."

Sam nodded as he returned to the waiting room, Dean was leafing through a copy of some car magazine when he saw Sam leave the back of the office. "How'd it go?"

"I have to get a daily maintenance inhaler to help keep everything in check, but my emergency inhaler is working well." Sam handed Dean the script. "We have to get it filled at the pharmacy."

"Okay. And then how about we grab something to eat, I'm starving."

Sam smiled, "Sure, as long as it isn't hospital food. That was the worst!"

**SPN**

Dean paid the taxi, then he and Sam disembarked and started walking toward their backyard abode. Sam was excited, Christmas was only days away and it would be the first time he really got to celebrate. Dean smiled, he couldn't remember Christmases before Mom died, but he guessed that they'd been normal-_With Dad Christmas was just another day on the road-if that_.

Dean unlocked the door and tossed the bag with Sammy's new inhaler on the table. Suddenly the door to Sam's room opened and John stepped out.

"Miss me, boys?" He growled, alcohol clearly present on his breath.

Sam immediately paled and Dean put himself between his father and brother, "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I came to find the shit-for-brains son who tried to kill me with a table lamp and leave me in a motel a few weeks back." He glared at Dean.

"You aren't going to hurt me anymore. And I'm sure as hell making sure you don't hurt Sammy." Dean stated, barely above a whisper.

"What, you suddenly grew a backbone?" John scowled, "You are my sons and you will do as I say. If I have to use force to get you to listen, so be it." He edged closer to Dean.

"I don't want to fight you. Sammy and I have a life here. We're happy. If you even have some miniscule idea of what parenting is, you'll realize your children's happiness and health is pretty close to the top. Just go. Please." Dean tiredly looked at his father.

"I know what parenting is. I kept you alive. Even if it wasn't '_normal'_." John mocked as Sam tried to hide himself further behind Dean, "Don't deny that you weren't made for hunting, Dean. I'm your father and I know what's best-I know how you feel when you're out there. You're just like me. You need to hunt."

"I am **not** like you." Dean locked eyes with his father. "I'm not an alcoholic asshole who puts himself first and uses his wife's death as an excuse to beat the shit out of one of his sons and ignore the other. I used to want to be you-but honestly, the time apart has helped solidify what I always knew. I'm never going to be you, and I'm happy about that."He put an arm behind him to hold Sam, "I care about my brother and I'm going to make sure he has a normal life." He glared, "Fuck you and fuck hunting."

John charged at Dean, who grabbed John by the collar, catching the older man off guard, and slammed him into the wall. "I'm not as strong as you, but I will fight for Sammy until I die." Dean growled. "So get out and never come back. We don't want you or need you." Dean drug John to the door and shoved him out, locking it behind him.

Dean walked back over to Sam, "Are you okay Sammy?"

"Yeah-I guess. I just don't want dad to get back in."

"He won't." Dean picked up the phone, "Hello, 911…"

**SPN**

John growled as he limped out of the police station. _My own fucking son called the cops on me. Ungrateful piece of shit…_ John nearly tripped as he rounded the corner and looked around for a suitable vehicle. There was a '88 Dodge Caravan. _Well, it'd have to do._ He jimmied the lock and quickly got the ignition running, pulling out as an irate man charged after him.

John tried to remember which way the boys were, but it was all a blur in his still buzzed brain. _Fuck it._ He gunned it and decided to just go straight until something looked familiar.

**SPN**

"Merry Christmas Sammy." Dean smiled as he pushed open his brother's door.

"Morning Dean, Merry Christmas." Sam rubbed his eyes.

Sam pulled a gift out from under his bed, "Here."

"Sammy, if we're gonna do the whole 'normal Christmas' thing, we need to at least eat breakfast first." Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam tilted his head, skeptical, "How do you know what's a normal Christmas?"

"I asked around at work what people do. Turns out a big breakfast is normal. That and church, but we'll skip that bit unless you decide you want to." Dean turned to head back toward the kitchen.

Sam slid out of bed and followed Dean into the main room, where he had a stack of pancakes already prepared along with sausage and a heaping pile of bacon. "Wow!"

"Well don't get used to it, I don't mind cooking, but the stove's a bitch to work on since it only has two burners." Dean said, trying to diminish his achievement.

Sam huffed and quickly hugged his brother, "Thanks Dean."

Dean wriggled free and the two sat down for breakfast. Dean slid the paper out from its plastic bag and started looking through the headlines when he paused.

"What's up?" Sam said between chews.

Dean slid the paper over to Sam. "Look at this." He pointed at the headline on the bottom half of the front page.

_Carjacker Dies in Vehicle Collision with Train_

Underneath the headline was a minivan that more resembled a crushed soda can and a mug shot of John Winchester.

_Randy West, 41, of Charlotte, North Carolina died in a vehicle collision when the stolen Dodge Caravan he was driving bypassed the barriers on a train crossing and was hit by a freight locomotive. According to video records of the collision the engine had applied brakes as soon as the vehicle entered the railway, but was unable to stop in time. West died on impact. He was earlier charged with harassment and breaking and entering. It is suspected he was intoxicated at the time of impact._

"He's dead." Dean said, dumbfounded.

"What now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. But I promise as long as I'm here, you'll be okay."

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for all the love you've been giving this little story. I'm going to continue working on Adaptation for the foreseeable future, though I will occasionally drop a few shorter pieces as well. If enough of you clamor for a sequel I might consider one for this, but for now I'm working on chapter 32 of my main story. "Death Seeker" will be the next short one I let out-that should be soon, though I can't promise when. Thanks again!


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